


your mouth is poison, your mouth is wine

by silverfoxflower



Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: Aphrodisiacs, Blow Jobs, Dubious Consent, First Time, Fuck Or Die, Hand Jobs, M/M, Paralysis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-26
Updated: 2020-10-26
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:20:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27203725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silverfoxflower/pseuds/silverfoxflower
Summary: Written for Kinktober day 22 (overstimulation) and the prompt:Jaskier finds a plant or monster that both makes him incredibly horny and paralyzes all voluntary muscle movement. Geralt kills the beastie, but that still leaves the bard in one hell of a predicament. Geralt gives him a helping hand… and then some.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 24
Kudos: 475





	your mouth is poison, your mouth is wine

Geralt cursed as he dragged Jaskier's limp body from the arachnid nest. He cursed Jaskier for, as usual, taking no heed of Geralt's barked orders to _stay at the inn_. He cursed the mage who hired him to deliver the arachnid queen's head with both venom sacs intact, thereby curtailing the most effective method for clearing arachnid nests - igni. But most of all, Geralt cursed himself for being too slow to push Jaskier out of the way when the arachnid queen spat a mouthful of (the damned mage would insist was _precious_ ) venom in his direction. 

Jaskier had fallen to the ground with a sickening cry, his lute making a discordant sound as he clawed at his face. Soon, his breath began to hitch shallowly, his pained noises growing soft and muffled. Geralt slew the arachnid queen with a desperate fervor, no longer pulling his swings to save the value of her head. 

Jaskier was still conscious when Geralt reached him, blinking weakly. But he did not speak, which was a clue to how dire the situation was. 

" _Jaskier_ ," Geralt said, his teeth clenched as he steadied Jaskier's head. "Can you walk?" 

With great effort, Jaskier was able to jerk his head in an approximation of a nod. Geralt slung Jaskier's arm around his shoulder and hurried the both of them to Roach. Under his hands, Jaskier's muscles felt tight, clenched and trembling. His head rolled into the crook of Geralt's neck, his breath sputtering against Geralt's shoulder as they rode. 

With each passing second, Geralt prayed that Jaskier would just continue breathing. 

\--

"Fascinating," the mage Staclen said, examining Jaskier's bare chest, then lower, where the front of his breeches strained against his fully erect cock. Geralt looked away, embarrassed. "Near complete paralysis, though his condition appears stable. Bard," Staclen said, as if speaking to a very slow child, "Can you understand my speech? Blink once for yes and twice for no." 

Jaskier very deliberately blinked once. 

"Very good," Staclen stood, leaving Jaskier's stiff body on the bed. "He has full control of his eyes, can open and close his mouth with effort, but cannot speak. He should be fully recovered in a day or less."

"Wait," Geralt growled as the mage turned to leave. "Can't you help him?" 

Staclen shook his head, smiling. "Perhaps, but I don’t work for charity. You haven't brought me what I asked for, after all." He tutted at Geralt's furious expression, "What did I say? He will recover on his own. Though if I'm proven wrong, I would be happy to buy the body off of you for further study." 

"What about his ... condition?" Geralt muttered, and Staclen glanced at Jaskier's arousal with amusement. 

"This is why the arachnids of Vattweir are so sought-after, you know. Their venom, distilled correctly, is a powerful aphrodisiac. Poor thing, he got dose enough for three men," Staclen shook his head, "What a waste." 

Geralt glared after the mage as he left, his attention suddenly drawn to Jaskier when he made a small, high sound. Quickly, Geralt walked to his side, taking in Jaskier's flushed face, his chest raising and lowering in shallow breaths.

"Are you having trouble breathing?" Geralt asked, feeling for Jaskier's pulse. It was, to Geralt's surprise, fluttering like a hummingbird's wings under his fingers. Jaskier's eyes met his, blue and pained and _imploring_. He blinked twice.

Geralt swallowed heavily. 

"Does it hurt?" 

One blink.

"Your body?" 

Hesitation. Two blinks.

Geralt drew in a short breath. 

"Your ... prick?" 

One blink, immediately. Jaskier's eyes looked fevered. 

" _Fuck_ ," Geralt muttered.

\--

It was, Geralt told himself, no different from when he had gotten that painful rash on his ass and Jaskier had offered to doctor it in the places Geralt couldn’t easily reach. Just a favor between friends, since Geralt hadn’t been paid and could just barely afford this room, much less a whore to ease Jaskier through his urges. 

Geralt’s fingers felt clumsy on the delicate buttons of Jaskier’s trousers, which were already straining from the thick bar of his cock. “Shit,” Geralt said, as a button spun off into the darkness of the room and Jaskier made a low whining noise in his throat. “Don’t start,” Geralt muttered. 

When he managed to open the front of Jaskier’s trousers, Geralt saw that Jaskier’s pre-come had dampened the front of his smalls, the thin white cloth now translucent, moulded against the ridge of his cock. 

Geralt pressed his palm against Jaskier’s trapped cock and Jaskier’s entire body seized, his breathing audible as his eyelids fluttered wildly. 

“Too much?” Geralt asked, suddenly feeling heat beneath his collar. There was a sudden humidity between their bodies, the slickness, the weight of Jaskier’s cock in Geralt’s hand, the moisture in his bright blue eyes. 

Jaskier blinked twice. 

Geralt released a breath through his nose, and reached into Jaskier’s smalls to grip his prick. It would be less intimate, Geralt figured, if he did not see it, though the angle of his reach forced him to lean over Jaskier, close enough to smell his sweat, the faint undertones of his musk, the brightness of the perfumed oils he wore in his hair. 

Pressed against Jaskier’s thigh, Geralt’s cock stirred to life. 

“Sorry,” Geralt muttered, trying not to meet Jaskier’s eyes, his own gaze fixed on the headboard as he pulled Jaskier’s cock with short, jerky movements, constrained by the moist clasp of his smalls. Though Geralt’s hand was dry, and it was more perfunctory a job than any underpaid bawd, Jaskier was soon making those strangled noises, his forehead pressed against Geralt’s shoulder as he shuddered and came in Geralt’s hand. 

Geralt realized that he had made a miscalculation when he pulled his hand from Jaskier’s breeches. Now the inside of Jaskier’s smalls were coated with his own spend, making for an uncomfortable night unless Geralt stripped them off. 

There was also the awkward matter of Geralt’s own erection. 

One look at Jaskier’s face told Geralt that he was thinking the same thing. Jaskier’s eyes flicked down to Geralt’s cock, then up. 

“This is already past a friendly favor,” Geralt muttered, wiping his hand on his breeches. 

Jaskier rolled his head to the side, and, of course, he was hard again. 

\--

Geralt told himself it was because he didn’t want to hear Jaskier whine. It sounded like torture, what Jaskier was going through, writhing as his skin burned with fever, his breath short and hot against Geralt’s shoulder. 

Geralt held Jaskier as he shuddered through another climax, his prick rubbed raw and tender, his trousers pulled to his ankles (Geralt had no patience to pick free the ribbon stays at Jaskier’s calves, but knew that he would be cross if they were cut). 

“ _Geralt_ ,” Jaskier gasped as he spilled into Geralt’s hand, his body arching off of the bed. 

“You’re talking,” Geralt said, pushing up on his arms to examine Jaskier’s face. 

Jaskier blinked. And swallowed. “Seems so,” he said, his speech slurred but still understandable.

“Is … this … helping?” Geralt asked haltingly. 

Jaskier licked his lips, trying multiple times to form the word before it finally exited his mouth. “ _More_ ,” he whispered. 

\--

Geralt kneeled at the edge of the bed and took Jaskier’s prick in his mouth. It felt fever-hot and pulsed thickly on his tongue, tasting of salt and Jaskier’s bitter spend. Jaskier made a noise, strangled and disbelieving and _needy_ , when Geralt sucked him down. 

It was easier to maintain a rhythm in this position, to close his eyes and soften his jaw and pretend the twitching in Jaskier’s thighs were from pleasure, rather than the poison coursing through his body. He tried to give Jaskier as much comfort as he could, rubbing his thumb against the cut of Jaskier’s hipbone in small circles. 

This position also allowed Geralt to slip a hand into his breeches, gripping his own responding erection, which he had not touched at all up to this point. Perhaps the venom was affecting him too, making his skin hot and his prick throb. The alternative - that he was aroused from his friend’s pain - was too distasteful to consider. 

Jaskier cried out shortly - hardly a warning - before spilling down Geralt’s throat. 

“Oh shit,” Jaskier whimpered as he watched Geralt swallow, pulling off to wipe his mouth with wrist. “Sorry?” Propped at the head of the bed, Jaskier looked _wrecked_ , his face flushed pink to the middle of his pale chest, his legs splayed indecently wide and his lips bitten cherry red. Geralt felt his heart pound heavily in his chest. 

It was the venom. Surely. 

\--

After his fourth climax, Jaskier found the strength to move his fingers. Geralt discovered this when he felt Jaskier clumsily pet his head, pulling weakly at his hair. 

Though Geralt’s jaw ached and his lips were bee-stung numb, he pressed hungrily into the touch. The noises Jaskier made were growing more frequent, moans twisted with pain and pleasure, his toes curling in the sheets. 

When he came the fifth time, his spend was thin as water. 

“I can’t …” Jaskier panted, his sweaty hair plastered to his forehead. When Geralt crawled up the bed, Jaskier opened his arms and Geralt allowed himself to be clasped to Jaskier’s chest, soothing his shuddering body with slow pets down his side, like he would a horse. 

Though he’d brought himself off twice, Geralt was still hard. He carefully positioned himself so he wouldn’t be tempted to press his erection against Jaskier’s soft, slick body, but his plans were foiled when Jaskier nuzzled closer, pressing sloppy kisses against Geralt’s face, though most fell on his chin and neck. 

“This isn’t how I wanted to do this,” Jaskier said, and Geralt’s heart sank. 

“There wasn’t much choice,” Geralt said gruffly. “I-” 

“You must think me a selfish lover,” Jaskier said, the remaining slur in his voice making him sound drunk, “Allow me to disabuse you of this, when this is all over.” Jaskier dropped his hand between them, and Geralt’s body jerked with surprise when he felt Jaskier’s hand on his cock. “If you’ll let me.” 

The tremulous smile Jaskier wore made something clench in Geralt’s chest.

“We’ll see,” Geralt said, and guided Jaskier’s questing mouth to his own. 

\--

Geralt came back from hunting to find Staclen in their room packing up his box of supplies with a smug look, while Jaskier sat on the bed buttoning his shirt, a bit pale. 

“Staclen was just examining me,” Jaskier said hurriedly, upon seeing Geralt’s face. 

“Right as rain, as promised,” Staclen said mildly, carefully making room for a jar of bloated-looking leeches. “The human body has remarkable distillation- er, detoxification properties.” 

“ _Leave_ ,” Geralt growled, “ _Now._ ” 

Staclen scowled, but his pace quickened when Geralt dropped a hand to his sword. 

“Well?” Jaskier asked, trying and failing to look casual as he fumbled with the buttons on his lace sleeve. Geralt silently walked forward, capturing Jaskier’s wrist in his own as he carefully pinched the buttons through their small holes. 

He could feel Jaskier’s heartbeat quicken under his thumb. 

“Are you sure you’re completely recovered?” Geralt examined Jaskier carefully. 

“For the last time, _I am fine_ ,” Jaskier sagged in his grip. “I thought calling Staclen over would assuage your fussing, but-” 

“Then yes.” 

“What?” Jaskier shook his head, raising his eyebrows. 

“Yes,” Geralt said gruffly, “I’ll let you prove that you’re an unselfish lover.” 

“Oh,” Jaskier said. " _Oh_." 

And there was very little talking after that.

**Author's Note:**

> my [tumblr](https://greyduckgreygoose.tumblr.com/tagged/myfic)


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